Ordinary Magic
by msgenevieve447
Summary: The Northern Lights, a yellow bug, and a pirate who is so much more than just a pirate. There are times, Emma thinks, that her life is filled with the most ordinary of magic, and she's so very glad. (contains very vague spoilers for Season Four). Just a little something written for scribblecat to go with her latest Captain Swan artwork.


"It's a pity your lad didn't wish to come with us tonight, love."

Her head tilted back as she stares at the night sky, Emma smiles to herself. Anyone else might not hear the uncertainty in his voice, but she's not just anyone. "It's not that he didn't want to, but he'd already told Robin and Kristoff that he'd go with them to the beach."

A soft _hurrumph _is his only answer, and this time she can't hide her smile. She knows he's trying very hard not to be jealous that Henry has been spending a lot of time with the 'new guy' in town lately, but sometimes, when it's just the two of them, the mask slips. "You know he still loves hanging out with you, right?"

They're parked at the bluffs (which would have been an ideal teenaged make-out spot if Storybrooke had enough actual teenagers to sneak away and use it) with the Northern Lights shimmering above the horizon, and Emma is trying hard to resist the urge to pinch herself because seriously, how is any of this real?

This late night parking is Killian's idea, of course. _It only happens once every ten years_, he had told her, as excited as a small boy, _I can't let you miss seeing them, Swan. _They'd asked Henry if he'd wanted to join them, but Robin and Kristoff had already asked him to a barbecue on the beach. He's only been in town for a short time, but she's worked out that Kristoff tends to stick to places where there's no issue taking along his scarily intelligent reindeer buddy and _God, _no matter how many times she tells herself she'll get used to Storybrooke's new inhabitants, she has the feeling it's not going to happen any time soon.

"That may well be, love, but the fact remains that I am a pirate without a pirate ship." His shoulder shifts against hers as he shrugs, and the faint hint of self-mockery in his voice chases the smile from her lips. "Hard to compete with a master archer and a man who owns a smartarse reindeer that does tricks for carrots."

They're sitting on the roof of her car (a bad habit she's been only too happy to teach him, but not before she made him promise not to tell Henry), and she threads her arm though his, tugging him closer. "Is that really what you think?" Resting her head on his shoulder, she threads her fingers through his, his palm warm against hers. "That you're just a pirate without a pirate ship?"

Turning his head, he presses his lips to her temple in a soft kiss. "I'm simply stating the facts, Swan."

Above their heads, the sky is iridescent with green and silver waves, the darkness banished by Mother Nature's wizardry, and she's so glad he'd insisted on bringing her up here. "You're so much more than that, and you know it."

After gently tugging his hand from hers, he touches her face with the reverence that never fails to make her heart skip a beat, his fingertips warm as they dance along her jaw. "If I am, love, it's only because of you."

"I doubt that." The vivid colours in the night sky seem to be mirrored in his eyes as he looks at her, and beneath the bright blue she sees the melancholy he's always so determined to keep under wraps. She knows he misses his ship, misses the sea, no matter what he might tell her. Sliding her arm around his back, she smiles at him, wanting to banish the suddenly sombre mood. "Besides, surely the infamous Captain Hook doesn't need a ship to be a pirate," she murmurs teasingly, and a spark of recognition flares in his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing," he reassures her, his lips curving in a wry smile, his eyes lighting up. "It's just always something of a shock when a man hears his own words coming out of someone else's mouth." His gaze drops to her lips, and she brushes aside this cryptic statement in favour of leaning closer. "And such a lovely mouth at that."

His hand curls around the nape of her neck, guiding her mouth to his, but seriously, she doesn't need any urging. No matter how many times he's kissed her (and she's kissed him) over the last few weeks, it will never be enough, the lightest brush of his lips against hers is enough to set her pulse racing, her belly clenching with anticipation. "We still have a vessel to command, you know," she tells him in a whisper, nudging her nose against his, drumming her heels _very _gently on the bonnet of her car. "And it's weathered many a storm."

He leans back in her embrace, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Does that mean you're finally going to teach me how to drive this beast?"

"Not on your life," she shoots back, enjoying his mildly outraged expression. "Trust me, I've seen many a budding romance crumble in the face of driving lessons. My father can teach you."

"Is that what we're doing, love?" His mouth is warm on her cheek as he kisses the corner of her lips, his breath against her skin making her shiver, and she can hear the smile in his voice. "Having a romance?"

"I sure hope so." Clutching a handful of butter-soft black leather (she loves his new shorter jacket, it makes everyday life so much less complicated), she touches her mouth to his, running the tip of her tongue along the swell of his bottom lip until he breathes a throaty sigh into her mouth, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair.

"As do I, Swan." She feels the press of his hooked hand on her back, pulling her closer, then they're _kissing, _deep and hard and hungry, the taste of him sweet and spicy on her tongue. He whispers soft endearments in between kisses, his every touch sending a flurry of heat and need shivering through her, feeling the echo of her own desire shuddering faintly through the solid warmth of him pressed so close against her.

They kiss for what feels like an eternity, time stretched and suspended in the sheer pleasure of it. Finally, though, she leans back in the circle of his arms and they watch the free light show, the sky still alive with light and colour, a once in a decade spectacle, a brilliant kaleidoscope. She thinks of her parents, and of Henry, and how despite the weird crap that seems to be thrown at them at every turn, they always seem to find a way to make it work.

_Happily ever after_ might still be a work in progress, but above her head the sky is glowing with ordinary magic as she sits on the roof of her battered old car, being thoroughly kissed by a pirate who is _so_ much more than just a pirate, and she knows she is loved.


End file.
